All I Believe (14 page)

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Authors: Alexa Land

BOOK: All I Believe
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When Nana sat down for a moment and kicked off her low heels, I brought her a glass of wine and told her as I sat beside her, “So many people are going to end up with a date or phone number, or even a new friend after this. I think what you’re doing is great.”

She said, “Thanks, Sweetpea. So where’s your honey tonight? I thought Luca would be joining us.”

“I have no idea, actually. I haven’t seen him all day.” I’d been trying not to worry since we’d never agreed on a specific time to meet, but he’d definitely been on my mind, especially after the incident I’d witnessed that morning.

Nana patted my hand and said, “You got nothing to worry about with that one. It’s obvious the boy’s gaga over you. He probably just got tied up somewhere.”

“Probably. So, what about you, Nana? You’ve been helping everyone else meet people tonight. Have you found yourself a silver fox?”

“Nah. I don’t have time to think about me, not when there are so many lonely people here, all looking for love.” She tossed back the wine, then stuck her feet back in her shoes. “I gotta crank up the energy level of this party. A lot of people still need to make love connections, we can’t have it wind down yet.” Nana jumped up and bustled out into the crowd.

Sometime later, Olivio Caravetti showed up. He was dressed in a grey wool three-piece suit and a fedora, and carried a bouquet of pink roses. I shook his hand and offered him a drink, and we chatted for a few minutes before he asked, “So, where’s this lady you want me to meet?”

I craned my neck and scanned the crowd. “Nana’s around here somewhere….” All of a sudden a lot of cheering and applause broke out, and I said, “I’ll bet that’s her.”

We waded through the crowd and emerged to witness quite a spectacle. Nana had combined all the acts. The marching band was playing Thunderstruck by AC/DC while the DJ laid down an accompanying beat. The acrobats flipped across a makeshift stage, then started dancing with Rafi and his troupe. The mime, clown, magician, and sword swallower flanked Nana, doing their respective acts with gusto. And right in the middle of it all stood my grandmother and the fire dancers.

They handed her a flaming baton, which looked like a giant Q-tip that had been ignited at both ends. Nana worked it like she was leading the Rose Parade. She didn’t really have the technique down, but what she lacked in skill she made up for with enthusiasm. One of them handed her a bottle, and I whispered, “Oh hell,” a moment before she took a big mouthful of liquid, held up the baton, and spewed a huge stream of fire into the night sky. The crowd went crazy, and fortunately Nana didn’t actually go up in flames.

“What a woman,” Ollie said, taking off his fedora and smoothing his thick, white hair. “Please tell me that’s who you wanted me to meet.”

“It is.”

Nana kept waving the flaming baton around for a couple more minutes as she twerked with Rafi and the troupe. Finally, she handed it off to a muscular fire dancer in a loin cloth, slapped his ass, and left the stage. We went up to her, and I introduced the two of them. When my eyes went wide, she asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” I told her, dragging my gaze away from the part of her forehead where her eyebrows used to be.

She looked Ollie up and down before saying, “You’re kind of short.”

“What, you want to date some big giant? You want to get a crimp in your neck every time you look at him? That’s just heightist. And you know, just because a fellow’s a tall drink of water doesn’t mean he’s packing a big straw, if you know what I mean,” he told her.

Nana started to grin, but then she gave him a stern look and said, “You have a point there. You’re no spring chicken, though. I’m not sure you can keep up with me. The last thing I need is some old fart who’s gonna keel over the first time I get him in the sack.”

“You got nothing to worry about there, sister,” he told her. “I’m like the Energizer bunny. You get with me, you’re gonna need a nap and a bowl of Wheaties afterwards to bounce back!”

“You talk the talk, but I’m not convinced. You gotta know I’m not going to sit around playing bridge and acting like an old person. I need adventure and excitement! If you can bring that to the table, then I might consider going out with you.”

He handed her the bouquet of roses and said, “These are for you. You’re sassy and I like that in a woman! You’re a real hottie, too. Now you just wait here and I’ll be right back. If you say you need convincing, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”

He disappeared back into the crowd and Nana turned to me and said, “You think I need fixing up?”

“Not at all. I just really liked Mr. Caravetti when I met him and thought you might, too.”

“Well, thanks for sending him my way. He’s cute, I’ll give him that. But if he wants to go out with me, he needs to show me he’s really interested. After your granddad, I don’t want someone who’s lukewarm about me, I want some passion! He also needs to prove to me that he’s not gonna bore me to tears, and that the highlight of his day isn’t the early bird special, followed by falling asleep in front of Wheel of Fortune. That shit’s not gonna fly with me.”

I was telling her about my afternoon with him and the fact that he used to own a gallery in New York when some shouting and a loud engine noise caught our attention. We were near the back of the hotel, and both of us leaned over and peered into the lobby. People were scurrying out of the way of something.

In the next moment, Olivio appeared on a big, red and black Ducati motorcycle. He wasn’t going very fast, but he was driving it right through the hotel with his head held high. Half a dozen hotel employees were running after him and yelling, but he totally ignored them.

When he pulled up in front of us, he handed Nana a white helmet. “Here you go, sexy, it matches your outfit. Now come on, let’s ride.”

My grandmother handed me the flowers, put on the helmet, and hiked her skirt up before swinging a skinny leg over the motorcycle. “I like you, Ollie,” she said. “You got style.”

“Right back at you, Stana,” he told her. She plucked one of the roses from the bouquet, stuck the stem between her teeth, and put her arms around his waist. Ollie gave me a little salute before swinging the bike around and driving right back through the lobby. The irate hotel employees had no choice but to jump out of the way.

Jessie and Giorgio came up to me, and my friend asked, “Do you think he stole that motorcycle?”

“Quite possibly.”

“Should we be worried?”

“Nah,” I said. “Nana can take care of herself. I’m going to run up to the suite and put her flowers in some water, I’ll be right back.”

The top floor of the hotel was infinitely quieter than the extremely hectic party, and the silence felt like a relief when the elevator doors slid open. I’d almost reached my suite when someone grabbed my arm. I gasped and spun around, startled because I hadn’t heard anyone approaching.

“Luca!” Something was wrong, I could tell right away. He pulled me into an embrace and held me for a long moment as I asked, “What’s going on?”

“I have to go,
mio tesoro
. I’m so sorry. I wanted that weekend with you more than anything.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to Rome. Where are you staying when you get there?”

“The St. Regis.”

He kissed me and said, “I’ll find you. I promise.”

“Can I call you?”

“It’s really important that you don’t.”

“I don’t understand. What’s happening, Luca?”

He cupped my cheek in his hand and met my gaze. “I can’t explain. Please, just trust me.”

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

He kissed me, then stepped back with heartbreak in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nicky,” he said before running down the hall and disappearing through the door to the stairwell. All I could do was stand there staring after him, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Chapter Eight

 

 

I tried not to think about Luca every minute of every day, and did my best to distract myself. I spent time with Jessie, Nana and Ollie. I visited relatives. I swam and ate and did some shopping and tried to enjoy my vacation. But I was going through the motions. I knew it and everyone else did, too.

On our last night in Viladembursa, Nana hosted a dinner at a local restaurant. Dozens of family members showed up. Jessie stayed for part of it, then went off with Giorgio. The two of them had seen each other three times over the last week, but I got the impression they were friends more than anything.

Meanwhile, Nana and Ollie had gone out every night. He even got one of his friends to watch the gallery and planned to join us in Rome. It was nice to see my grandmother so happy, even though she told me, “I’ve been burned once before, so I’m taking this slow. Ollie’s got to prove to me that he can be trusted with my heart.”

When we left the restaurant, Fiona kissed both my cheeks and promised to email soon. She’d gotten four phone numbers at Nana’s party and seemed really excited about one of the men in particular. Remy and his wife carried their three sleeping kids. They wished me safe travels, and made me promise to come back soon. Matteo hugged me goodbye and said he’d come visit me in San Francisco the following summer. His ever-present bestie Allessandro shook my hand and promised to tag along and pretend he was part of the family. He didn’t really have to pretend.

Ollie took Nana for a nightcap, and I walked the few blocks back to the hotel. I didn’t go inside, though. Instead, I sat on the edge of the fountain and watched the celestial rodeo.

And of course, I thought about Luca. To me, that would always be our spot. It would have been wonderful if he suddenly reappeared and kissed me and explained what had been going on with him. We could have picked up right where we left off. But maybe I was the only one who wanted that.

I was baffled by his sudden departure. Why would a man call me ‘my treasure’ (
mio tesoro)
, and then tell me not to call him? Why would he refuse to offer any explanations for skipping out on our plans? It wasn’t as if he was a spy and had been handed an exploding envelope with a top secret mission. He bought paintings for spoiled, rich people. How urgent could that possibly be? Or if it wasn’t job-related, what the hell was it, and why couldn’t he just tell me what had called him away?

Jessie joined me after a while, sitting beside me and looking up at the fountain. Eventually he asked, “You miss him, don’t you?”

“Constantly. I wish I didn’t, though.”

“He might have a really good reason for taking off the way he did.”

“Possibly. But maybe it would have been an idea to tell me what it was.” I turned to look at my friend and asked, “Did Giorgio take off?”

“Yeah, he needed to get home to Catania.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?”

“Maybe. We’re going to keep in touch. He says he wants to come to the U.S. next year and that he’ll visit me.”

“Do you think it could ever be serious between you two?”

Jessie shook his head. “Giorgio’s a good friend, but that’s about it. He’s one of those guys who can’t imagine why anyone would settle down with just one person. I’m the exact opposite. I don’t see why anyone would want to sleep with a different guy every night of the week.”

“You got all that, even with your language barrier?”

“Yeah.” As I stood up and stretched, Jessie asked, “Are you going to miss Viladembursa?”

I nodded. “I know I’ll be back, I just don’t know when.”

“I’m going to miss it, too. Being here felt good.” He got up too and we both took a last look at the fountain before turning and heading to the hotel. “Well, onward and upward to the next adventure. I’m excited about seeing Rome. Will you be my tour guide if Nana ends up distracted by Olivio?”

“Absolutely.”

We went into the hotel, and when we reached our suite Jessie asked, “Would it be okay if I spent the night in your room with you? Obviously I mean that in a totally platonic practically-your-brother sense. I could just really use some company tonight.” When I agreed, he hurried to change into a pair of pajamas and brush his teeth.

I was under the covers in shorts and a t-shirt when he joined me. He shut off the light and slid in bed beside me, then said, “Thanks for letting me bunk with you.”

“I was feeling a little lost tonight,” I admitted, “so I’m glad you’re here.”

“I feel the same way. I guess maybe I’m a little disappointed that things didn’t work out differently with Giorgio. I was so excited when we first met. I thought I’d finally found a guy who was as into me as I was into him. But it seems like that’s never the case.”

“You’re such a great guy, Jess. Sooner or later, you’re going to find someone who truly appreciates you.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I think I smother the guys I date. I want to be in a relationship so desperately that I try way too hard and rush things and just generally completely fail to play it cool. It scares ‘em off quicker than anything. I’m starting to doubt I’ll ever find a guy who’ll put up with that shit,” he said.

“The right guy won’t care about any of that.”

“I hope so.”

We were both quiet for a while, and I tucked my hands behind my head and stared toward the ceiling (not at it, since I’d taken my glasses off and couldn’t see that far). Then Jessie asked out of the blue, “You’re totally crazy about Luca, aren’t you?”

“God yes, even though that scares the hell out of me. You know I was only looking for a summer fling, and even that was going to be a stretch after the way my last relationship ended. I’m supposed to be keeping this casual, not thinking about him every waking moment. We only went out a few times, he’s not supposed to matter this much to me!”

“I guess it’s not really the kind of thing you can control. I get why it happened, too. There’s this crazy connection between the two of you, anyone can see it. The fact that you were drawn together twice is proof of that. You two are meant to be. It’s like the entire universe aligned to make sure you found each other again.”

I rolled onto my side and smiled at Jessie in the darkness. “That’s an incredibly romantic notion.”

“What can I say? I’m a true believer in happily ever after.”

“I don’t know what to think about the way he broke our plans and ran off without offering any explanations.”

“Do you believe Luca cares about you?” I didn’t have to think about it. I just nodded. Jessie said, “So, I guess all you can do is trust him. It sounds like some things are going on in his life that are beyond his control, and maybe he has a really good reason for not telling you what’s going on.” I sighed quietly and nodded.

 

*****

 

Rome was a shock to the system after the slow pace of Viladembursa. I loved big cities and normally thrived on their energy, but this time it felt a bit jarring. Despite that, I made an effort to look past the noise, crowds and traffic and tried to appreciate all that made Rome truly great. The city was vibrant and unique, the ancient and the modern sharply juxtaposed, and there was so much to love about it. I just had to get in the right mindset.

I tried to take a note from Jessie’s playbook and let his enthusiasm rub off on me. Each day, I played tour guide, showing my friend all the major attractions and a few lesser known gems. He was delighted with them all.

Nana and Ollie (and Diego Rivera, the Chihuahua) accompanied us some of the time, but also went off to do things as a couple, including romantic dinners, trips to the theater, and a tremendous amount of shopping. He showered her with gifts, and she did the same for him. Olivio Caravetti hadn’t been involved with anyone since his wife passed almost a decade earlier, and after her husband left her for a woman half his age, Nana wasn’t going to give her heart to just anyone. But they were both willing to try, and that was a beautiful thing.

All in all, I was doing a pretty good job focusing on my vacation and not just obsessing about Luca constantly. That became a lot harder in the middle of the night, though, when sleep eluded me and thoughts of him wrapped themselves around me and held on tight. I got in the habit of slipping out of our suite around two a.m. each night and walking the half-mile or so to Trevi Fountain.

During the day, the popular attraction was choked with tourists, but at that time of night I usually had it to myself. The winged horses reminded me a lot of the fountain in Viladembursa, and maybe that was what kept drawing me. I’d stand there for an hour or so, taking comfort in the familiar and missing Luca with every part of me.

Before I’d head back to the hotel, I’d always pull a coin from my pocket and whisper to it, “Come back to me, Luca,” before throwing it in the water. You were supposed to wish you’d return to Rome one day when you threw a coin in the Trevi Fountain, but I asked instead for the thing I wanted more than anything.

On my fifth evening in Rome, Jessie was feeling a bit under the weather and had turned in early. Nana and Ollie had gone on a dinner cruise, so Diego Rivera and I were hanging out together in a quiet corner of the lobby. The tiny dog was dressed in a sky blue, bulky sweater that day (he had them in every color, and I’d learned they were hand-knit by Ollie). He let out a tremendous yawn before curling up on my lap and putting his head on his paws. I’d brought my law journals downstairs with me, but I couldn’t even sort of concentrate. I kept re-reading the same paragraph over and over, but instead of sinking in, it bounced off like a ball against a brick wall.

Eventually I gave up, tilting my head back and staring up at the high, ornate ceiling. The lobby was opulent, a rich composition of golds and reds and grand details including an enormous chandelier. It was such a beautiful setting that I’d been spending a lot of my free time there.

I was sitting near the front desk, and sat up when I heard an unfamiliar voice say in a weird mashup of Spanish and Italian, “I must speak to Nicolo Dombruso. What is his room, please?”

The desk clerk politely informed him that he couldn’t give out room numbers, and I called, “I’m Nico Dombruso.”

The stranger turned and looked around. He was a handsome guy of about thirty with thick, brown hair that grazed his shoulders, a tidy beard and tattooed forearms. His clothes were so rumpled that it looked like he’d slept in them. I gave him a little wave, and he rushed over and exclaimed, “Nico, what a lucky coincidence! I’m Ignacio Mondelvano.” He spoke in English with a thick accent that made me think of Antonio Banderas.

“The artist?” When he nodded, I scooped up the dog and quickly got to my feet as I stammered, “I have one of your paintings!”

Ignacio flashed me a perfect smile as he shook my hand. “Yes, I know.”

“You do?”

“Do you have some time? I’d like you to come with me.”

“Really?”

“We should hurry. My car’s parked illegally in front of the hotel. Bring Diego Rivera, he likes the convertible.”

The dog was wagging his tail and wiggling in my arms, and tried to lick his hand when Ignacio scratched his ears. “Ollie must have sent you,” I guessed. “Are he and Nana alright?”

“I’m sure they’re fine wherever they are, but this has nothing to do with them. I’ll explain everything, but we should go before my car is towed.”

“Yeah, okay.” I tossed the law journals on a table and forgot all about them as we headed to the door.

The convertible in question turned out to be an ancient, faded, red Fiat Spider. Diego Rivera jumped into what there was of a backseat and stood on his hind legs, trying to peer over the edge of the car. Ignacio and I got in, too. He smiled and waved at the hotel’s parking attendant, who was giving him an exasperated look, then started the engine and shot forward. It was surprising that the old Fiat had that much power (or any at all).

I grasped somewhat frantically for my seatbelt as Ignacio said, shouting a little over the rush of air, “You need to be more careful, Nicolo. I could be anybody, and you just let me abduct you. Next time, ask for identification or something.”

“Noted, although people aren’t exactly lining up to kidnap me.”

“Still. You should think about your safety.”

He threw the car into fourth gear in order to run a light that was about to turn red, and I braced myself and told him, “Maybe driving a bit slower would be an idea if you’re concerned about my safety.”

“Driving in Roman traffic is like swimming in a shark tank,” he countered, flinging the car into a roundabout at full speed. “You only survive if you show no fear.”

“I really don’t think sharks care if you show fear. They just eat you anyway.” I reached behind me and scooped up the dog, who was tottering around the backseat, and added, “Also, feel free to tell me where we’re going and why. Not that this whole suspense thing isn’t exciting.”

“Someone wants to see you. He couldn’t come get you himself, so I volunteered.”

“You don’t mean Luca Caruso, do you? I didn’t think you knew each other.”

“Luca is a very new friend, but I quite like him, so I’m happy to intervene in his love life.”

“Why couldn’t he come get me?”

Ignacio turned to look at me. “This I don’t know, only that he can’t stop talking about you and wanted to see you.”

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